


Swallow My Pride

by trashkingtater



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Needles, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Freefall, Stitches, Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego but it's the Clint Edition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashkingtater/pseuds/trashkingtater
Summary: Bucky Barnes and Clint Barton have worked together since Bucky first came back from Hydra. Back then, it was only as work partners, though, and nothing more. They only really started coming together after they both worked together to save Natasha, and even then it was bumpy. After, though, Bucky had seen something in Clint that he hadn't before. Spending more and more time together, day after day, until one day a new player came onto the scene: Ronin. Right before that, though? A new girlfriend, by the name of Linda.Bucky's trying to be supportive, he is, but he's only one man, after all.---------------------Better summarized as: Bucky's perspective of Hawkeye: Freefall #6
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	Swallow My Pride

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the summary in like 0.2 seconds so if its not reflective of the fic, I am v sorry. 
> 
> This is a Post-Freefall fic, it will probably be pretty angsty, at least in the first chapter. It is not a fix-it exactly? Clint still fucks up and all. This was originally based on my “Bucky post-freefall but its that ‘say something im giving up on you’ song” tweet, but it grew its own head and kinda spiraled into something completely different (I like this more, though, so its fine)
> 
> Winterhawk Bingo: Bucky Worries About Clint (B5)

Something was off about Clint.

After Clint parted ways with the team in the weirdest manner, Bucky and Bobbi had grouped up together in attempts to figure it out. They hadn’t gotten very far, holed up in Bucky’s temporary apartment, knocking their heads together on the truth of what’s going on.

Bucky stares at his ceiling again, mind racing as he tries to find the dots he’s been missing. Someone’s pretending to be Ronin to destroy Clint’s good name. Someone who was extremely talented, who could best both Clint, Sam, and Bucky working together. He sighs to himself before he closes his eyes. “Bobbi, he was your husband for years. You’ve known him much longer than me.”

She chuckles, “The man I married is very different from who he is now.” She shakes her head before sighing, looking out the window onto the street that Bucky knows is still busy despite it being so late. “He called me by my call signal. He hasn’t done that since before we were married. I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong, though, we’ve been distant for too long.”

“I think he knows who Ronin is,” Bucky says slowly, not wanting to upset her. “I don’t know why he won’t give him up or talk to us, though.”

“Well, maybe if you’d both stop dancing around each other like you have been the past few years,” she says with a quirk in her brow. “You think I don’t see the both of you making eyes at each other. Buy the man some flowers and he’ll stop being so cagey. Maybe. I have my bets,” she pauses for a second, clearly thinking hard, before softly, “he likes lavender orchids. He’s surprisingly good with them, you know.”

Bucky’s not surprised that Bobbi knows about them dancing around each other, as most people do. It’s been an open secret since shortly after their mission to find Natasha a few years back. The surprising part is that she thinks that Clint likes him enough to talk to him, because that’s not how Bucky sees their relationship anymore. He had figured, with all seriousness, that whatever they had was over.

They hadn’t always been so involved in each other’s lives. When Natasha was reported as dead, Bucky had been a mess and Clint was the last person on his mind. Her operations soon started popping up again, and he’d taken immediate interest despite all his thoughts repeating that there was no way that she survived. He hadn’t expected Clint to have noticed her, too. He’d tried keeping his distance during the mission, tried staying cold towards Clint’s antics, but the other man has a way of winning people over. Bucky wasn’t immune to his charms. After Natasha went off on her own again, though, they both fell into an easy camaraderie.

Bucky never called them dates, and neither did Clint. The amount of time they spent together did change, though. Bucky was flying into New York for work more often than he was home, using it as an excuse to take Clint to breakfast. The only times he really remembers staying home were the times that he was injured, and within a few days Clint would appear. Bucky would tease him for playing nurse, and Clint’s face would heat right up. It was simple and easy, and he could feel the fondness forming between them that was built on mutual snark and affection. He’d even been pestering Sam about his thoughts on Clint.

But then…

Clint hadn’t been by the last month or so and Bucky had been busy. He had flown in at the beginning of the week when he heard about the Ronin case and instantly becoming concerned. He’d no qualms it wasn’t Clint then, and still doesn’t think it is to this day. He’d planned on wrapping up this case and then asking Clint out for real this time when he heard about Linda Carter from Sam. Bucky had played it off easily, sure he’d missed his chance but somewhere deep down it still stung. So, their relationship, if that’s what it could even be called, was over and Bucky was just here for his friend.

Still, the idea of Clint tending to a bunch of flowers fills him with a fondness he tries not to let show on his face. “Barton with a green thumb, who knew,” Bucky mutters before putting his hand over his face. He guesses it’s too late to truly hide from Bobbi, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try.

He hears a laugh while his eyes are closed before it cuts out. He looks up, worried, to see Bobbi on her phone, face hardened. “What happened?” He asks, knowing that whatever it is, it isn’t good.

“Put on the news, we might need to gear up.” She tells him, and he quickly grabs the remote and switches on the television. His posture instantly tenses as he scrutinizes the man dressed in the original Hawkeye costume fighting on the screen. He lowers the volume, so they can talk over it.

“Are you seeing this?” He asks, even though he knows she is. Whoever it is, he’s good, an extremely precise shot. Unfortunately for this guy, Bucky’s spent enough time working with Clint to recognize the that the stance is all wrong for it to be Barton. The part that has his heart racing, though, is that the imposter is attacking Captain America. Someone is seriously trying to damage Clint’s reputation at this point.

“That’s not Clint,” Bobbi says instantly, and he’s glad he’s not the only one who noticed. It doesn’t ease either of them, though. Bucky’s ready to rush out the door at a moment’s notice and Bobbi is tense, ready to fight.

“Does Steve know that?” He’s serious in his question, because not a lot of people pay that much attention to Clint. The rest of the team tends to brush him off more than anything. They trust him, but they don’t really know him. Bucky takes out his phone, quickly shooting off a text to Clint.

_Someone has your old costume and is fighting Steve. Do you know what’s going on?_

Bobbi narrates the fight for him as he struggles with autocorrect. It seems like the imposter is just as good as Clint, hitting Steve in several critical spots before running off. Steve’s on the ground, but Bucky knows with this level of attention that he’ll be fine. Medical will be there soon and it takes more than a few arrows to take down Steve.

“Clint’s not responding, I’m going to go check on him.” His thoughts are going faster the longer that Clint doesn’t reply, thinking that whoever took the suit must have it out for him. He’s not sure entirely what business Clint’s been mixed in lately outside of the Ronin case, but he’s assuming they’re related. He just wishes he knew why they were targeting Clint in the first place.

“I’m going after the imposter,” Bobbi’s tone is fierce, and she must have been getting ready while she updated him. Her staves are in hand and mask already on her face. He silently admires how much of a badass she is in this moment.

“Call if you run into Clint,” he nods to her as they take different turns at the door.

He shuffles out of the apartment complex quickly, grabbing his guns on his way out. The streets of New York didn’t smell familiar when he first escaped from Hydra, but after being back for a couple of years they feel like coming home. He dodges through traffic, most of which is at a standstill. It seems most people are freaking out about Avengers infighting again, which he can’t blame them for; the last time was devastating. Horns blare around him, but he barely registers them as he hurries to his destination.

Clint’s building is only a few blocks away from where he’s staying, so it doesn’t take long to get there. He sees a strange note next to a tape deck that says, _Listen to Me, Hawkeye._ It’s already been played through once, so he guesses that Clint’s been here as he rewinds it to listen to himself. He wonders about why Clint didn’t call after finding something like this, thinking more and more that Clint knew more than he was saying he did.

The tape starts with a gravelly voice that Bucky barely recognizes as Bullseye. It immediately cuts to belittling Clint, which he’s not surprised with how much the two hate each other. What does surprise him is when Bullseye says that Clint is the one behind Ronin, and that he’s been committing serious crimes in pursuit of the hood. Bucky doesn’t understand how that’s true because Bucky fought Ronin with Clint right next to him.

The tape ends, saying that someone named Bryce has details on a location to meet for details. Bucky takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly He doesn’t have time to be angry about whether Clint is Ronin, not right now. There are things moving, Clint is in danger, and now, apparently, an ultimatum with a criminal kingpin. Bucky doesn’t know anyone named Bryce, but he spots the blood trail out of the corner of his eye leading down into the basement.

He makes his way down, opening the door to see a blood puddle in the middle of the floor surrounded by splatters. A bullseye suit is discarded on the ground, also covered in blood. He doesn’t know what happened, but he’s worried, so he pulls out his phone.

_Clint, where are you?_

He hears a ding from behind him and turns to see Clint’s phone discarded on the couch. He groans, pinching is brows because this is so typical for Clint. He doesn’t know if Clint ended up being kidnapped by the Hood or if Clint just didn’t think to reach out per usual. At least Bucky’s learned who attacked Steve while he was here.

He shoots off a quick message to Sharon to update her about Bullseye, because they do need to know who they’re fighting against. While he’s doing that, he tries to focus on where Clint might have gone to. He’s assuming that the bloodstain is from whoever this Bryce person is. Clint would have found him and rushed him to help. Knowing Clint, help means Linda. She’s the night nurse after all.

She’s not far from Clint’s place, luckily. It takes him maybe ten minutes to get there. He buzzes on her door and she lets him up easily.

“Sorry to drop in on-“ He stops when he sees the blood on the floor, and the dead teenager on the table. “That’s Bryce, I’m guessing.”

“I told Clint he needed a hospital,” Linda gestures to all the blood and Bucky notes the mascara dried down her cheeks. He looks back at the kid, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest. There are holes in all his joints; even if he had survived the damage would have been extensive.

He’s only a little older than RJ, Bucky thinks, before his heart drops out. “Christ, what did Clint step in this time?”

“I have no idea.” Linda slumps against the wall, closing her eyes. “He’s been stranger than normal lately, but I didn’t think…”

“Hey, do you need any help with this?” He does have contacts and seeing her struggle like this isn’t easy to watch. If he can help, he wants to.

“No, I already have people on the way. Just find him if you can, I think all of this is about to get worse.”

“I’ll bring him back to you, Linda,” Bucky promises. He can’t imagine being put in her position right now.

“No, no” she laughs, but it catches in her throat the same way a sob does. “I’m done with him. Just keep him out of trouble, for his sake.”

“I’ll do my best,” he says keeping the surprise off his face. What he doesn’t say is that he’s worried he’s too late. He calls Clint’s phone as he walks out the door, knowing if Clint went back to the basement that he’ll hear it ring. It rings through to voicemail and Bucky curses, pocking it and heading back to Clint’s apartment.

The door to the front has been left ajar, which wasn’t Bucky’s doing. He takes out his gun, using it as he checks through the doorway for hostiles. No one’s there, though, just an empty space. He trudges back into the basement as he holsters his weapon, pausing to note the differences from earlier.

The Bullseye suit is missing. Clint’s modern Hawkeye suit is sitting haphazardly on the couch.

Bucky lost whatever lead there was with Bryce because the poor kid is dead. Clint is still missing, probably dressed in a Bullseye costume to his best guess, and he has no idea on his location. Bucky must have missed him by minutes, and he’s incredibly frustrated that Clint refuses to reach out for help from anyone.

The phone is still sitting on the couch, most likely untouched, and Bucky has half a mind to strangle him for not answering it. “Absolute moron,” he mutters as he pulls up his police scanner app. He listens to the chatter as he climbs out of the basement, noticing through the upstairs window that the sun is starting to rise. He keeps listening as he leaves the apartment complex for the second time that morning, doing his best to look where he can.

While he’s walking, he starts to think about the Ronin situation more. He knows that Ronin has been killing entire rooms full of bad guys, leaving dead bodies for the police to have to clean up. That doesn’t bother him as much as it probably should. Bucky fought in WW2, so he’s not exactly afraid to get his hands dirty. He’s not like Steve where he made a rule for Avengers not to kill people. It’s probably why Bucky didn’t make a good Captain America, in his eyes at least.

So no, Ronin, or Clint possibly killing entire rooms full of goons doesn’t bother Bucky as much as it should have for those reasons. He knows Clint isn’t a lost cause, and hell, Wanda unmade the entire world at one point and she’s fine now. The whole Ronin fiasco only bothers him so deeply because this is Clint, and Clint never kills people unless it’s the absolute last resort. Even then, sometimes he’ll refuse. He’s never been like this in all the years Bucky’s known him, so yes, he’s worried about what caused Clint to break like this.

He hopes that he didn’t do anything to contribute to it.

The police scanner interrupts his thoughts, chatter coming up about two costumed criminals fighting at the Hudson Rail Yards with the cops requesting backup. He immediately changes his course, turning it off just as he hears Ronin and Bullseye mentioned. It’s a couple of miles away, but if he runs, he should be there in time to keep it from turning into a shitshow.

He doesn’t think, as he navigates his way across New York. He notices weird glances from people he’s maneuvering around. Usually costumed folks aren’t out at this time of day, it’s more of a nighttime thing. He brushes past the thought, though, as he focuses on getting to where he’s going as quickly as possible.

When he arrives, his gut churns because he knows he’s too late. There’s an ambulance team working on extracting the man in the Ronin suit from the ground, with arrows sticking out of him at painful looking angles. Bucky guesses that’s Bullseye, then. Clint’s nowhere to be found, which makes sense, as it’d be bad publicity for him to be dressed as Bullseye.

He walks up to the surrounding police officers, introducing himself. It’s a hit or miss on whether people will work with him since the name Winter Soldier still sits wrong in the eyes of many. These officers, it seems, are willing to help him out without giving him a hard time and Bucky’s grateful for it.

They tell him that Bullseye is still conscious, despite his injuries, and don’t object to Bucky’s request to climb in the back of an ambulance to interrogate him. Missing Avengers cases are either very important to these cops, or Bullseye has managed to piss them off already. Knowing the man, he leans towards the second.

He pulls himself into the truck, not bothering to sit as he doesn’t plan to be here long. He hears a broken laugh from the man before him, before he says, “Look, it’s the boyfriend.”

Bucky doesn’t know how Bullseye knows how much Clint means to him, but it does the job of unsettling him. Bucky takes a deep breath, reminding himself that Bullseye is already in a pretty critical state right now. Additional violence isn’t the answer, but his hand tightens into a fist regardless. “Where are they meeting at?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he sounds smug despite the situation. The fact that he’s going to be transported to a high facility prison soon doesn’t seem to bother him at all. He seems to consider for a moment, before giving Bucky a grin wide enough that he can see the flecks of blood on his teeth. “Tell you what, I’ll tell you just so you can see how far he’s fallen for yourself. He’s past saving, buddy. Hope the eulogy is prepared.”

Bucky doesn’t let himself feel anything as he listens to Bullseyes chuckles. Clint isn’t past saving, not in Bucky’s eyes and he still firmly believes that. He does his best to make it across town in time, only pausing while he’s on the subway to check his phone. The signal is spotty, but Bobbi’s text manages to come through to say that Clint robbed a bank in his full costume. It was him this time, and everyone’s losing their minds. He responds that he’ll handle it, thanks for the update.

When he finally arrives to the right area, he knows he’s running late. He’s hurrying across the street when the sound of shattering glass echoes from above him, and his eyes dart up to to spot two bodies falling out of a fourth-story window.

He freezes when he realizes one of them is Clint’s.

The sound of honking horns pushes him back towards the present, realizing Clint is already getting up to leave. Robbins is lying on the ground, unmoving, and honestly, he might be dead. Clint’s using the building as a crutch as other criminals eyes sticking on Clint like vultures, and he swears as he speeds up to catch Clint.

Clint stopped right after he turned down the alley, and Bucky finds him leaning against a dumpster of all things. “Christ, Barton,” Bucky says as the absolute wreck he’s in. There’s glass, bruises, and blood everywhere and it’s been a long time since Bucky’s seen him this beaten up. Then he notices Clint’s shoulders tensing, gearing up for a fight. Bucky puts up his hands quickly, “It’s just me, Clint.”

His whole body seems to diffuse at once, and then he hisses in pain as it jolts his injuries. “Yeah, it’s been a bad night.”

“Yeah, about that,” Bucky starts, because he doesn’t want to do this here. “After we get you patched up, we need to talk about some of the things that happened tonight.”

“What you see is what you get, Bucko,” his smirk is there, like none of this matters in the long run and he’s just here for the ride. His eyes, though, they’re both hard, and yet broken in a way that Bucky’s unused to seeing on him.

“You don’t wanna talk? Fine. But we at least need to get you patched up.” Bucky says, picking Clint up into a fireman’s carry. He hears a grunt of pain as a complaint, but Bucky just makes sure to walk gently and quickly, remembering the large group of criminals nearby.

“My legs aren’t actually broken,” Clint calls towards him and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“So, now you know how to communicate?” He says more to himself than to Clint. It does the job of shutting him up, though, as Bucky feels out of his depth to keep up a conversation right now. He’s worried, more than anything, but underneath of it all is a simmering anger that he’s been trying to ignore.

A part of him is bitter about Linda, sure. He’s been gracious about it as much as he can be since he still cares about Clint, but that’s not the source of it all. The anger is bubbling up from the lack of communication and amount of danger Clint unnecessarily put himself through, and for what? Bucky has no idea what’s going on through his head, but whatever it is, it’s not worth Clint dying.

The image of Clint crashing out of that fourth story window flashes through his mind again and his chest tightens in response. Just as he’s starts to understand why he’s so angry, it all fades under the need to make sure the blonde idiot thrown over his back is okay.

Clint’s apartment isn’t too far from them, luckily. As soon as they arrive, Bucky takes them both straight upstairs, ignoring the basement completely. There are more medical supplies upstairs, anyways, seeing as it’s where Clint lives. He unlocks the door with the key he’d gotten from Clint all those months ago, his heart clenches at the memory.

When he sets Clint down on the couch, it’s much gentler than when he’d originally been picked up. “Stay,” Bucky says while leaving a hand on Clint’s chest for a moment; their eyes connect, and Bucky hopes to god that Clint can read what it is he’s really asking for.

“I didn’t know we were playing Simon says,” Clint snarks instead and the moment is ruined. Bucky glares at Clint before the other man puts his hands up in surrender. “Jesus, alright.”

Bucky strides into the bathroom, grabbing the medical kit under the sink. He opens it and inspects the contents on his way back to the living room. It’s pretty standard for patching people up in a pinch, but a little understocked. That makes almost too much sense, seeing how Clint is constantly taking care of himself. Bucky tsks as he sets it on the ground, but within reach.

He sits down on Clint’s right side, pulling off the armguard there. “Take this off,” Bucky motions by tugging the bottom of his shirt.

Clint huffs immediately, “Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?” In which Bucky rolls his eyes to.

“Bought you dinner more times than I can count, Barton. Take the damn thing off.”

Clint goes quiet at that, as he struggles to take off the top of his uniform. Bucky moves in to help him, unable to watch him suffer more than he already has. There’s glass protruding out of Clint’s shoulder, so Bucky starts there. He uses tweezers to pluck the small shards out before moving the larger piece of glass that’s embedded in there. Clint winces, and while Bucky can’t really do anything about the pain, he does try to keep it as gentle and fast as possible.

Stitches come next after the glass is out. Bucky goes slow, as he’s not always the best with stitches despite all the experience he’s had. He says to Clint, “You know, you’re a lucky shit to not break any bones with that stunt.”

Clint just shrugs with his other shoulder, “If you break them once, they grow back stronger. Plus, all the milk.” Bucky remembers the time he brought Clint chocolate milk, and nostalgia churns in his gut. Things hadn’t been better then, he’s not sure why he’s feeling this way, but with Clint things are always complicated.

Instead, he pokes Clint’s skin with the next stitch, and watches as Clint gets huffy at him. “Can you take things seriously for five seconds?” Bucky asks.

Clint narrows his eyebrows, “What, like Steve?” His voice is guarded, and Bucky tries not to roll his eyes.

“No, not like Steve, dumbass. I know you’re capable of more than just sass, Barton. Christ, we were two seconds from going steady, so you forget that I know you better than this.”

Clint sits, contemplating for a minute. He looks over at Bucky, staring him up and down before finally meeting his eyes. He gives Bucky a broken half smile before saying, “Did you really just say going steady?”

Bucky pulls the stitches tight as he says, “Do you really want to be sassing me off when I’ve got a needle in your skin?”

Clint’s half smile stays on his face despite the threat. “Yeah, you got me.” It tugs at Bucky’s heart because he wishes more than anything that Clint would talk to him. He’s not a stupid man, despite how he acts. He’s deeply clever so something must be going on, but Bucky has no idea what. He ties the needle off and places it back in the container to be sanitized. The rest of Clint’s injuries is mostly bruises, he really was lucky.

Something in Bucky breaks, though, as he realizes he can’t force Clint to talk to him. He wants to help, he does, but Clint has to want the help in order for that to work. It’s something he learned the hard way the last time. He can’t just bulldoze his way in. Clint doesn’t want to talk, at least not right now, and Bucky has to accept that.

He figures he’ll give it on more try before he leaves.

“You know,” he starts, willing his voice not to catch on the words, “no one knows what’s going on with you anymore. Not even Bobbi.”

“I didn’t shoot Cap,” Clint says, immediately defensive. It doesn’t surprise Bucky at all, if people thought he’d shot Steve he’d feel the same way.

“We already know that, idiot,” he says, fonder than he means to let slip. “Your stunt at the bank, though, that wasn’t okay.”

Clint winces in response, “Not my finest hour.” He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t elaborate or defend himself. He just stares up at the ceiling.

Bucky sighs and leans back against the couch. “Why didn’t you just call us? We would have helped.” It’s true enough, because when one Avenger gets involved in something usually another accompanies them soon enough. It’s kind of the point of the team, to stick together.

“The Avengers are above low-level crime bosses,” Clint lies, and Bucky just stares at him for a second.

“Do you remember a little while right after we first met, back when Asgard was first destroyed? You were running around as Ronin and I was Cap since Steve was still dead. Back then when Parker Robbins, the guy you just tossed out a window, came into some crazy power and the entire Avengers teamed up against him? That low level crime boss? Yeah, try again.”

Clint looks surprised that Bucky remembered all of that, and more vulnerable than Bucky would have expected. “I’m one of the only unenhanced humans on the team. I should be able to take care of Robbins on my own, or else I don’t deserve to be there.”

Bucky doesn’t know if he wants to strangle or hold Clint right now, but he knows both are inappropriate. “I should knock you on your ass for that, but you did enough of that on your own. The point of the Avengers is so that we don’t have to do shit alone, Clint. You deserve to be one of us.”

Clint doesn’t respond, he just looks away at the ceiling. Bucky wonders if he’s the right person to really talk sense into him after all.

“You could have called me, at least. Could have told me, I would have listened.” Bucky tries.

“It was personal,” Clint’s voice is hard again, and it cuts deeper than Bucky would have expected it to.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I thought we were, too.”

Bucky gets up, picking the medical supplies off of the floor. He takes them back to the bathroom and leaves them up on the counter for ease of access. When he gets back to the living room, Clint has his good arm over his face, like he’s hiding from something.

“C’mon, Barton, lets get you into bed. You need to rest to heal.” Bucky picks Clint up into a bridal carry without waiting for a response. Clint goes with a surprising lack of usual snark, not even saying anything as Bucky wraps him up in blankets.

Finally, he breaks the silence after he’s all wrapped up, saying, “I’m not sorry for doing it, but I’m sorry you got hurt in the process.”

It cuts more than it heals, and Bucky tries not to let that show as he looks down at Clint. The other man looks guarded, on edge, and a part of Bucky understands needing to do something for yourself. He takes a slow breath, asking something he’s been neglecting to. “Were you Ronin the whole time?”

He hopes the answer is no, but when Clint looks away from him, refusing to answer, its all the confirmation he needs. His heart fractures, thinking about how he’d stuck up for Clint despite the Linda fiasco. How Clint killed people behind all of their backs and then lied to their faces about it.

Bucky still wants to help, despite it, but Clint has to be willing to help himself first. He’s a grown ass man who needs to start feeling responsible for his decisions. Bucky’s too close to this to begin with if he’s being honest with himself. He tucks some of Clint’s hair behind his ear, fighting with himself on what to do.

“I think,” he starts slowly, “it might be best if I go back to Indiana for now. I’ll call Sam to drop you off some crutches or something.” Clint doesn’t reply, he just gives a little nod, like it’s what he expected from all of this. That’s not all Bucky has to say though, so he continues, “When you’re ready to talk, and I mean actually talk, feel free to drop by, Clint.”

He can’t force him, he knows that. He tried that with RJ and that didn’t work, so this time he’ll try something new. He’ll back off, and let Clint come to him when he’s ready. The best thing he can do for either of them is give them some distance.

When he gets up, Clint still doesn’t respond, but as he tries to move away from the bed, he feels a light grip around his hand. He stops to look down at Clint’s hand wrapped around his, warm and firm where they’re connected.

“I’ll try to be quick, Buck,” Clint says, and his eyes may be the color of troubled storms in the dark lighting, but the hope written across his face is the best he’s ever looked.

“I’ll be there for as long as it takes, sweetheart,” He says, bending down and pressing a kiss to Clint’s hand. When he looks up, he sees a half smile on Clint’s face and his heart flutters for the first time all night.

It might take them a while, but he knows that they’re going to figure things out. He’ll go back home and give Clint the space he needs to process and be there when Clint’s ready to talk. He’s nowhere near ready to give up on Clint, and he knows Clint’s too stubborn to ever give up on himself. It’ll just take time and patience and they’ll get there.

**Author's Note:**

> for people who haven’t read freefall: clint wasn’t killing large swaths of people as ronin, the hood was killing people and everyone thought it was ronin(clint). i think my friend asked Rosenburg himself after like issue #5 got delayed bc it was a HUGE source of infighting in the gc we were in (I thought he was killing people 100% I will own up to it) this will be coming up next chapter but i wanted to avoid the confusion of "omg clint killed people?!?!" no he didn't (well, he might have killed parker robbins? we dont have confirmation so)
> 
> anyways next chapter when? who knows, i am not organized enough for a posting schedule, but hopefully in the next 2 weeks. the next chapter is only half outlined so if there's anything u wanna see drop a comment and i'll see if i can make it work


End file.
